


I find you be-witching.

by happybibliosaurus



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fics [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint Barton-centric, Halloween fun, Love Potions?, M/M, Witches, a little angst and a lot of stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 09:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happybibliosaurus/pseuds/happybibliosaurus
Summary: A love potion was definitely taking it to far.Clint wasn't going to use it.He wasn't that desperate.





	I find you be-witching.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished my first set of uni deadlines for this semester, so I celebrated by writing a self-indulgent Halloween(ish) themed fic. 
> 
> Not beta'd.  
Note - Edited again on 24/10 to make it flow better. C:
> 
> Happy Halloween!

  
His costume wasn’t working.  
  
Somehow, his Halloween costume - which consisted of little more than a tiny pair of tight booty shorts which left very little of his ass to the imagination, and open waistcoat which showcase his abs, and, of course, bright purple cowboy hat – had failed to even get a smirk from Barnes.  
  
Bucky Barnes - the source of far too many of Clint's fantasies. Broody, sullen, which his beautiful brunette locks, and thighs which Clint had to stop himself requesting to be squeezed by them every time they Barnes put his Winter Soldier gear on. Long-time crush, and the keeper of Clint's heart, even if he didn't know it.  
  
And Clint knew he looked good, it wasn't as if he wasn't that self-unaware. All the eyes were on him from the moment he walked into the avengers Halloween bash. His ass looked fine in the outfit, and he had been purposefully dancing and grinding to show off just how little of him was covered. He had been prepositioned several times in the course of the first half an hour, so why the fuck was Barnes not interested?  
  
Clint wanted to cry out in despair. Barnes had taken one look at him and then turned about to glare out into the crowd, fists clenched, looking about two seconds away from murdering every single one of the guests Tony had invited.  
  
What else did Clint need to do to get the guys attention?  
  
He had tried everything in his repertoire to get Barnes’ attention. From subtle flirting, which gained him no response at all, and then to flirt as outlandishly as humanly possible, which Barnes had completely ignored as well. Not even a smile on his gorgeous lips, or nod back to suggest he had been listening to Clint. Nothing. Nada.  
  
He had begun to lace every conversation they held together with innuendo and flirty winks until Bucky had started to avoid talking to him when they were in the same room.  
  
And, no matter what Nat might say, his lines were good. He knew they were, and she was just trying to wind him up. Probably.  
  
Well, they had worked on other people before, with a lot of success. Just not James Buchanan Barnes apparently.  
  
Clint had then moved on to using his best asset to win over Barnes – his body. He knew he was good-looking, okay, and multiple people, on multiple occasions, had told him his arms were a masterpiece. If showcasing his biceps and abs couldn’t stir Barnes’ interest, he had little hope.  
  
Clint had even woken up early – well before 11 am – proving just how much he wanted this. A quick shower, and a good hour of making sure his hair was the right kind of just-got-out-of-bed-messy, he had sauntered his way to the communal kitchen to get his morning coffee, clad in just his boxers, as casually as he could make it seem. His boxers, from the latest range of Winter Soldier merchandise, sat low on his hips, showcasing his Adonis belt.  
  
Alas, it hadn’t been a success though. He had gotten wolf-whistles from Tony, a deep blush from sweet old Cap'n America and a very energetic pat on the ass from Thor.  
  
But Barnes … Barnes had simply upped himself and walked right out of the kitchen, with a concerned expression his face and a forlorn cup of tea left behind in his wake to get cold.  
  
“Nice try, Yastreb,” Natasha had muttered in his ear resting her head on his shoulder. It was a sweet gesture from her, and he kissed her on the forehead in gratefulness, before taking a sip of his own coffee and spilling the rest down his bare chest.  
  
Maybe he should have been glad Barnes hadn't been around to the see that.  
  
Keeping it simple hadn’t worked either. He had spent months finding little gifts for Barnes – an extra coffee for the good coffee place down the road whenever he went out, the prettily iced cakes from the old-timey bakery in Brooklyn, and a gorgeous set of throwing knives that he left on Barnes’ bed after his first mission as an Avenger.  
  
But the most gratitude he had received for these attempts had been a very brisk nod, followed by Barnes’s trademark glare.  
  
  
Short of jumping on him naked, Clint was running out of ideas on getting the guys attention. Months into this crush and he wasn’t any closer to getting his hands on Barnes's beautiful thighs, and it was destroying Clint. The Halloween costume had been his last resort, and even that hadn't worked for him.  
  
He had to face it; Barnes hated him, and this crush was never going to be anything more than that.  
  
And it wasn’t fair when Barnes was sat there looking like a reincarnated Greek God. Barnes had obviously given into Stark's pestering and let him dress him up as Terminator, and the leather jacket was doing magnificent things to his shoulder. His hair was tied back away from his eyes, revealing his stunning jawline, and Clint just wanted to lick him all over.  
  
  
It was as Barnes threw back another glass of whiskey with murderous intent that Clint remembered the tiny bottle of potion in his jacket pocket.  
  
The bottle had been a gift from a resident, one he had been given, be swore never to use. Ever.

**[#]**  
It had been a long day, week, month. Clint wasn’t even sure anymore. He had just returned back from a fortnight undercover in an awful Russian lab, only to be immediately called out again for yet another round of destroying Doom bots. He was never a fan of Doctor Doom, but when he got in the way of Clint’s sleep then Clint had absolutely no remorse on destroying all his bots as violently as possible. He was tired, aching and covered in whatever fucking slime the bots had been emitting, and just done. Completely, and utterly fucking done.  
  
Angrily he had waved off Tony’s jokes, and frustratedly informed Steve that ‘he wasn’t going to go out on any missions for another 3 days unless the world was in fucking flames, and then he might only consider it’, and no sooner than he had gotten home and flopped on to his battered sofa, then he was complexly asleep and dead to the world.  
  
Sadly, his plans to sleep like a hibernating bear for the next 24hrs were rudely ended less than 4 hours later, when a large wet tongue swiped up his face from his chin to forehead, covering him in awful dog saliva.  
  
“Ughhh, Lucky?” he mumbled pushing his face into his dog’s soft fur. Lucky’s fur was warm and homely and Clint sighed happily soaking up the company until Lucky resumed licking him, and Clint had to relent and open his eyes.  
  
“Hmmm, what’s up boy?”  
  
At the sound of Clint’s voice Lucky jumped off the sofa and bounded towards the apartment door.  
  
“You need to pee, bud?”  
  
Lucky let out a huff in response and scratched the door, so Clint reluctantly sat up and pulled his shoes back on and grabbed the leash.  
  
Clint sat back against the apartment building wall as Lucky happily sniffed out all his favourite pee spots and wished he had had the forethought to grab a jacket as well. He was in the middle of cursing about his cold arms when he noticed Old Miss Sorgina from 2C struggling along with her shopping backs toward them. She was a sweet lady, lived on her own and kept to herself, but always brought the best cauldron cakes the building BBQs. She also always told Clint how handsome he was, and he would never admit it, but he lived for her praise.  
  
“Let me,” he smiled down at her and grabbed the bag she was struggling without of her hands. Whistling for Lucky to follow them, he helped her up the staircase, bags in one hand and Miss Sorgina attached to the other arm, and made a mental note to phone the elevator company for the repairs as soon as possible.  
  
“Well, aren’t you a lovely lad,” she announced as he placed her bags on the counter. Clint preened under the affection and gave her a mock bow. She chuckled and squeezed his cheek. “You remind me of my grandson. Blonde hair and a charming smile.”  
  
Clint blushed over her praises. “Thanks, ma'am, it was nothing.”  
  
“No, don’t be silly pet. Now, I’ll tell you what, I’m going to give you a little something for being so kind.” At that, she shuffled over to an ornate chest of wooden drawers and pulling out a glass vial containing a pale pink bubbly liquid.  
  
“No, it is fine. Please, there is no need.”  
  
“No darling, I must insist. You have been such a gentleman, so you deserve this.” She pushed the tiny bottle in his hands with a forceful gesture. “I think you find this love potion is exactly what you need to win over that man you spend all your time fawning over.”  
  
Okay, she didn’t use the words “love potion” but it was implied. Something about the receiver not being able to look away from Clint, and them finding Clint irresistible. Maybe he should have listened better. He had just been thrown that his pining was so obvious his tenants had noticed.  
  
Well, it didn’t matter because he wasn’t going to use it. A love potion was taking things too far, he wasn’t going to stoop that low. Things were not that desperate. Probably not.  
  
  
**[#]**  
****   
  
It was so stupid, so so stupid, but he was in such despair of his rejected advances, that it had clouded over all reason in his brain.  
Subtley – and yes he could do subtle Natasha, if he tried – he dug the little bottle out of his jacket, and added it to the brightest coloured cocktail the menu had to offer, and slowly danced over towards Barnes, swaying his hips in time to the beat of the music.  
  
“Hey, you should try these! They are amazing,” he shouted over the noise, forcing it into Barnes’s hand and looking up at him expectantly. Barnes stared down at it in disgust, before giving a quick shrug of his shoulders and taking a sip. Clint's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the way his Adam's apple bob. Fuck, he was so fucking gone for the guy.  
  
“Not bad I guess,” Barnes mumbled, tension from his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as Clint perched himself on the barstool beside.  
  
“It’s a pina ghoulada, geddit, ” Clint replied, leaning back and scratching his stomach in an attempt to look more relaxed than he was feeling. Barnes’s eyes followed the fingers on his stomach with a look of anger which Clint should maybe be worried about, and also probably meant that the potion hadn’t had any effect at all. Eh, he might as well test it with his patented brand of car crash flirting. What did he have to lose after all?  
  
“Your costume looks complicated. Need help taking it off?”  
  
Barnes froze for a second, before disgust registered on his face and he jumped up and stormed away from Clint, shattering Clint's heart into a thousand pieces as he walked away. Natasha gave him a concerned look from across the room, and Clint shrugged in response. It was probably best if no one found out about this.  
  
So to summarise, the ‘love potion’ didn’t have any effect and there was a chance Clint had repulsed the Winter Soldier enough to send him into a murder spree. Fingers crossed he wouldn’t be murdered in his sleep.  
  
Eh, he was pretty sure he would deserve it. Slipping unknown potions to a formerly brainwashed assassin? What was he thinking?  
  
“3 shots of your spookiest tequila,” he muttered to the barkeep. Time to drown his sorrows and bruised heart in bad alcohol and to find someone else who appreciated his costume.  
  
**[#]**  
  
8 shots, 3 cocktails and a glass of suspicious punch later, Clint was struggling to stand up anymore. Stumbling slightly, he winded his way out of the crowd of bodies that were grinding against him and flopped onto the plushy leather of the nearest seating booth.  
  
“You okay Clint?” a beautiful, gravelly voice above him asked, and Clint looked up to see he was lying with his head in the lap of one James Barnes.  
  
At the sound and sight of Barnes a smile automatically plastered itself to Clint’s face, and he brought his hand up to feel the side of Barnes’s face. Barnes grabbed his hand after a few weak pats on the cheek and pulled Clint up to sitting.  
#  
“Buckaroo, my hero, my man! Why aren’t you dancing?”  
  
Clint had spent the first 5 drinks still watching Barnes out of the corner of his eyes, but there had been no change in his attitude towards Clint. He had kept up with the short, concerned glares and frowned whenever Clint had started dancing up against anyone. In fact, he had seemed to be even madder at Clint than usual. After the 6th drink though, Clint had forgotten to look out for Barnes, and by the 10th he had forgotten completely that Barnes might currently hate his guts.  
  
“You call this dancing?” Barnes grumbled back, pulling his hand out of Clint’s.  
  
  
“Nah, but you still should have danced. Would have liked to have danced with you.”  
  
“You’re really drunk ain’t ya. Come on, let's walk you home.”  
  
Barnes pulled Clint up and grabbed their coats. Clint was more than happy to just lean into Barnes as he did so, and he let out a happy sigh of contentment when his arm wrapped around his waist to help him walk. They walked most of the way back in silence, and Clint was almost asleep in Barnes’s arms by the time he called the elevator. In the mirrors he noticed Barnes giving him yet another angry stare, and the despair boiled up again in his stomach.  
  
“What did I do to upset you, Barnes?” He asked, wiggling out of his arm.  
  
“Huh? I’m not upset with you Clint.”  
  
“Yes, yes you are! You keep giving me your murder stare, and I would really like to know if I am going to die tonight because I need to apologise to you first if that is what is happening?  
  
“Apologise?” Barnes questioned, turning to face Clint and placing a hand on his shoulder. “What did you do Clint?”  
  
The look in Barnes’ eyes was so sincere that Clint blurted out his response without thinking. Curse drunk Clint.  
  
“I may have slipped you a love potion! I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice me, and nothings worked, and then my neighbour gave me a love potion and I know I shouldn’t have used it, but you always look at me with such anger and I really just wanted you to like me because I have such a huge fucking crush on you. But it obviously didn’t fucking work cos’ you’re not acting any different towards me.”  
  
Absolute dead silence followed for what felt like hours, broken by Jarvis announcing they had reached the communal floor.  
  
“Please don’t murder me!” Clint burst out, as Barnes continued to stare up at him.  
  
"Clint, I’m not going to murder you. I, I …” Barnes rubbed his face with his metal hand and looked into Clint, eyes full of sadness and sincerity. “I didn’t act any differently because …. because, well, I’m already in love with you, Clint. Head over heels, in fact. You are fucking stunning, and I can’t take my eyes off you whenever you walk into the room. But I never said anything because I didn’t know how you felt. “  
  
Fuck, what?!  
  
Bucky Barnes was in love with him. Little old Iowa Clint Barton? The human incarnation of disaster!?  
  
“I flirt with you all the time! I brought you gifts! I wandered around in my underwear for you! How didn't you notice? You’re sex on legs, and I just wanted to be smothered by your thighs, and then I wanted you to snuggle me with your beautiful arms and -“  
  
“Clint” Bucky interrupted, a wide smile on his normally sullen face. “I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay? “  
  
Happy to comply Clint jumped up, and stumbled into Bucky, wrapping both his arms around his waist eagerly. Bucky’s arms swung around Clint’s neck and he leaned up, gently placing his lips on Clint’s, and kissing him softly. It was short, and sweet and only tasted a little of the cocktails Clint had spent all night drinking. Clint could feel Bucky smiling against his lips, and when they pulled away Bucky kept his arms around Clint.  
  
“So, a love potion huh?”  



End file.
